Around the World in 80 Dishes: Namibia

A few years back, I prepared a street food dish, known as Coupe Coupe, as part of my Around the World in 80 Dishes challenge to prepare a main dish from the country of Gabon. As one person noted, the dish combined indigenous ingredients and techniques with colonial influences. Yet, Coupe Coupe is quintessential Gabonnais barbecue, and a street food that one could find in places like Libreville.

When I finished that challenge, I remarked that I needed to prepare more street food as part of my Around the World culinary challenge. Now, I find myself with the challenge to prepare a main course from Namibia, a country that is approximately 2,700 kilometers south of Gabon along the Atlantic coastline of the African continent. And, there is perhaps no better dish to prepare than Kapana, the essential street food experience in Namibia.

Before I talk about Kapana, I must first talk about Namibia, one of the newer countries (having gained its independence in 1990) and one of the most sparsely populated ones (with only 3.1 million people living in a country with 824,292 kilometers) in the 34th largest country in world. (Namibia is larger than California and Montana, but smaller than Texas and, of course, Alaska.) The overwhelming majority of the population -- more than 93% -- are indigenous Africans, with the remainder consisting of groups associated with those who have colonized or sought to colonize the land in the past, such as Afrikaners, British, Dutch, and Portuguese. 

Colonization left its mark on the indigenous people in more ways than one. During the early twentioeth century, when the land was known as German South West Africa, the Germans committed genocide against the indigenous Herero peoples, killing 80% of them, and the Nama people, killing 50% of them). The survivors lost everything, and were subjected to forced labor, racial segregation and discrimination. While Germans lost control of the land after World War I, the South Africans moved in and took control of "South West Africa," imposing apartheid, separating the white  Afrikaaners from the indigenous peoples, with the latter living in the developing areas while the former were left outside. When independence came, Namibia transitioned into a stable parliamentary semi-presidential republic (that is, it has a President and a Prime Minister).

While the colonists are gone, their influences remain behind, especially in the cuisine of Namibia. Nowhere is that more obvious than in the culture that has developed around the grilling of meat, especially beef.  

At the meat market in Namibia (Source: Trip Advisor)

Beef has a special place Namibia. It is reported that there are nearly one million more cows in Namibia than people. Thus, cattle and beef play an important in the economy. In the past, cattle, along with sheep and goats, would be raised by Namibian corporations, as well as family farmers, and then sent to the abbatoir for butchering. The cuts would then make their way into the local market or be exported. However, in recent years, there has been a trend of exporting live cattle. One study suggested that the farms and farmers export the cattle perhaps because they could get higher prices from foreign buyers for younger cattle in countries like South Africa rather than butchering the beef locally. Yet, the same study suggested that fully grown cattle may fetch even higher prices at Namibian abbatoirs. Given Namibian farmers do not use growth enhancers, it takes longer for the cattle to grow, which suggests some farmers may just be looking to make money quicker than investing the time to fully raise the cows. This creates long term issues for the abbatoirs, which struggle to remain productive and profitable. 

While more cows may be headed out of the country, beef still plays a central role in Namibian cuisine. The per calorie intake of beef in Namibia is the highest in Africa, rivalling the intake of western countries like Canada. Indeed, much like a braai in South Africa, the grilling of meat is not just a preparation of a meal, it is a social and cultural event in Namibia. And it goes by the term ... kapana.

MAIN COURSE

And, for this culinary challenge, I have tasked myself with preparing kapana. One quick note to start: there appears to be some dispute over terminology. The word kapana means "fry" or "grill" in Oshiwambo (the language of the Ovambo people, an indigenous group in Namibia). Thus, it more than likely refers to the process, and perhaps even the marketplace where it is prepared. By contrast, the name for the grilled beef dish is otete.

The kapana, that is the marketplace, usually consists of a long line of stalls where each grill master works with their own charcoal grill. (The above picture illustrates such a market.) One cannot simply set up their own stand at the marketplace, as the stalls are regulated. However, individuals can set up their own kapana stalls, selling grilled pork, beef and other meats, in other locations. 

Kapana, the process, begins with the grill master (who are mostly men) acquiring a large cut of well marbled beef, along with perhaps some organ meat (like livers or kidneys). The exact cut of meat is typically a secret, for reasons that I will explain later. The grill master will then slice the meat against the grain into long, thin strips. The meat is then placed on the grill, usually without any seasoning, with the fat on top to keep the beef moist, and then cooked until it is at least medium. People get the grill masters attention and then order their meat as it cooks. Once it is done, the grill master will cut the meat into bite-sized pieces, which is then served alongside a salsa consisting of tomatoes, onions and chiles, and a small mound of kapana spice, which is usually in a cardboard box in front of the grill. As Stephanie Haines, a contributor to the Christian Science Monitor described the experience, "[w]hen it's cooked right, the beef is moist and smoky, the salty fat is crispy on the outside and chewy on the inside, like a grilled hunk of cheese. 

One final note: kapana is something that unites all Namibians, regardless of social or economic status. Grillmasters often incorporate cheaper cuts of beef along with the well-marbled ones, which helps to reduce their costs and offer their product to the less well off people in the community. People gather around the stalls, to talk and eat, making the marketplace an impropromptu gathering place. 

Oshetu Community Market (Source: Evendo.com) 

The place for kapana is the Oshetu Community Market (also known as Single Quarters). The market is located in Katutura, a township within Namibia's capital of Windhoek. The name, Katatura translates from Otjiherero, the language of the indigenous Hererero peoples, as "the place where people did not want to live." The township was not their home; the South Africans created it as part of their apartheid policies, forcibly removing indigenous Africans from their homes and relocating them to the township. Now, the township has the marketplaces where people go for kapana.  

As for me, I will be preparing kapana using my backyard grill. I found a recipe online and decided to use sirloin steak, as it was economical (relatively speaking) and produced long strips when sliced (relatively speaking). Given I was using a gas grill (as noted above, charcoal was preferred), I decided to use some of the kapana spice (recipe below) for a quick marinade of the meat. The spice mix incorporates smoked paprika, which helps to create the smoky elements of kapana when using a gas grill. It was a brief marinade, probably no more than 15 minutes, given I was dealing with thin slices of meat. As for the salsa, I decided to go with a jalapeno pepper for the chile, although I did give some thought to a Scotch Bonnet chile. If there had been serrano peppers at the store, I probably would have gone with those chiles. Needless to say, when I was done, the beef was amazing, both on its own, as well as with the salsa and some additional spice mix on the side. 

KAPANA (OTETE)

Recipe adapted from Esterkocht and International Cuisine

Serves 10

Ingredients (for the meat):

• 3 pounds of well marbled beef steak (like ribeye)
• 2 teaspoons Kapana spice mix
• 2 tablespoons of sunflower oil or olive oil

Ingredients (for the sauce/salsa):

• 2 tomatoes, chopped finely
• 1 onion, chopped finely
• 1 chile pepper (according to heat preference), minced
• 1 tablespoon olive oil
• 1/2 tablespoon white vinegar

Directions:

1. Prepare the meat. Cut the meat into long, interconnected strips. Place the beef streps in a casserole dish. Add the kapana and oil. Using your hands, rub the meat very well. Cover with cling film and chill for about 1 hour. In the meantime, make the fire and let the grill heat up. 

2. Prepare the sauce/salsa. Combine all of the sauce/salsa ingredients together. Mix well and set aside.

3. Grill the meat. About 10 minutes before grilling, take the meat out of the fridge to bring it to room temperature. Place the meat on the grill (whose temperature should be about 350 degrees Fahrenheit). grill for 3 minutes and then fip to the other side. Grill for another 3 minutes. Turn the meat again and grill for 2 minutes. Turn one more time and grill for two minutes. (These times may vary depending upon the thickness of the beef strips.) 

SPICE MIX

From what I have learned, the kapana spice mix is usually served alongside the kapana. However, some recipes (like the one I have included above) call for marinating the beef, albeit briefly, by spreading some of the spice mix over the meat. Given that is how I traditionally prepare meat for barbecue here in the United States, that seems like a reasonable approach, even if it takes us a little bit away from the traditional kapana in Namibia. 

Setting aside that issue, this spice mix is amazing. It has both smoky and spicy elements, which are rounded out with the use of ginger, coriander, and brown sugar. Quite frankly, it is better than many of the barbecue rubs that I have made or bought. This mix may well become my go to grilling spice mix going forward into the future. 

KAPANA SPICE MIX

Recipe from Esterkocht

Ingredients:

• 1 tablespoon garlic powder
• 1 tablespoon onion powder
• 1/4 teaspoon ground coriander
• 1 tablespoon smoked paprika
• 1 tabelspoon sweet paprika
• 1 teaspoon red chile flakes
• 1 tablespoon dried thyme
• 1 teaspoon salt
• 1/2 teaspoon ground mustard
• 1/4 teaspoon ground cumin
• 1 tablespoon brown sugar
• 1 tablespoon ground ginger
• 1 teaspoon ground pepper 

Directions:

Combine all of the ingredients together and mix well. Let the rub infuse for a few days for the flavors to med together before using. The spice mix will keep for a few months if sotred in an airtight container in a cool and dry place. 

*     *     *

This challenge cemented the place of street food as part of my Around the World in 80 Dishes challenge. The kapana was amazing, perhaps the best beef dish that I have had in quite a while.  Not only that, it probably resulted in my go-to spice mix for pretty much anything that I grill or smoke. Now, I will be off to find some more street food recipes that can serve as challenges in the future. Until next time ...  

PEACE.

Around the World in 80 Dishes: Ireland

 "Laughter is brightest in the place where the food is."

-- Irish proverb

This proverb recognizes that food, especially good food, can create community, bringing together people in an environment of hospitality and inclusion, which leads to happiness and joy. While that recognition is a truism, the proverb originated in a country, Ireland, whose history is marked with roughly seven centuries of colonization, deprivation, and famine. That history hardly produces circumstances where food, let alone laughter, abounds.

Yet, the history of the Irish people and their cuisine goes back much further than British colonialism. Indeed, Irish cuisine spans some 8,000 years and that history has been well documented. As chef, restauranteur and writer J.P. McMahon once observed, "[f]ood has always lived in the background of Irish poetry and folklore, simmering quietly, never quite at its centre, yet essential to its scent and materiality." Indeed, one needs only look to Irish literature to get some insight into the ingredients, dishes and meals that have been served across the Emerald Isle over time. And, As Mairtin Mac Con Iomaire and Eamon Maher wrote in Tickling the Palate (2014), "Irish literature is replete with descriptions of food." 

Take, for example, The Hermit's Song or Marban to Guaire. It is a poem written in the 8th century C.E. The poem reads:

To what meals the woods invite me

All about! 

There are water, herbs and cresses,

Salmon, trout.

A clutch of eggs, sweet mast and honey

Are my meat,

Heathberries and whortleberries for a sweet.

Round me grows,

There are hips and haws and strawberries,

Nuts and sloes.

And when summer spreads its mantle

What a sight! 

Marjoram and leaks and pignuts,

Juicy, bright.

All of those wonderful ingredients and not one of them was a potato. (Potatoes are a relatively new ingredient, having been introduced in Ireland about 400 years ago.)

This wealth of ingredients and dishes fell out of reach for most Irish over time, and the literature describing Irish cuisine became more barren. Much of this occurred during the period of English and British colonization, which began in 1169 but brought the entire island under colonial rule during the 17th century. The colonialist policies, along with British landownership, forced much of the population into poverty.  And, by 1840, nearly 75% of the Irish were poor. Their cuisine became one that is often described as the food of the poor. The Irish survived by raising and eating what they had on hand, whether it was sheep or root vegetables -- like the potato -- that they could cultivate in their own gardens.  Indeed, the potato was vital to survival. As Dr. Mac Con Iomaire observed, the Irish found that they could grow "enough potatoes on one acre of poor or marginal land to feed a family of ten, with very little work." But, when the potato blight hit Ireland, the loss of this critical foodstuff led to the Great Famine and Great Hunger, with at least one million dying and another million leaving Ireland. 

As one would expect, Irish literature reflected the more difficult times. The ballad, "The Praties They Grow Small" is a work that starkly evokes the hunger of the Irish people: 

Oh, the praties they grow small,

Over here, over here

Oh, the praties they grow small

And we dig them in the fall.

And we eat them skins and all, 

Over here, over here.

Oh, I wish that we were geese,

Night and morn, night and morn,

Oh, I wish that we were geese,

For they fly and take their ease

And they live and die in peace,

Eating corn, eating corn.

The long periods of deprivation took their toll in so many ways. And, as writer J.P. McMahon explored in their work, that deprivation continued to present itself in Irish art and literature, long after the end of colonialization.

Since its independence, Ireland -- along with its people and their cuisine -- have indeed recovered what they have lost with a return to the wealth of ingredients from both the land and the sea. For one thing, the Irish are known for their cheeses, whether it is the Dunbarra, a brie style cheese from County Cork; the Durrus, a washed rind cheese from West Cork; or the Drumlin, a raw cow's milk cheese from County Cavan. (Not all Irish cheese begin with the letter "D" but I chose these three to show the range of cheeses from north to south of the isle). Then there is also the seafood, whether it is mussels in cream, served along the shores of the Galway Bay, or the Dublin Bay prawns. And, of course, the there are beef, lamb and mutton dishes, such as Irish Stew, corned beef, and spiced beef.  

MAIN COURSE

Irish stew has always been prepared with what farmers and their families had on hand. Prior to the late 16th century, the stew consisted basically of mutton (or goat), onions and water. After the potato was introduced to Ireland in the late 1500s, farmers and cooks began adding slices of the tuber to help thicken the stew. 

One of the earliest written recipes for Irish Stew, which reflects the combination of mutton, onions, potatoes and water, comes from the O'Brien family, who lived in southern Ireland during the 1600s. The Countess of Thomond wrote down the recipe: 

To make an Irish stew of mutton Season the bones of a neck of mutton with pepper and salt, put it down with a layer of onions, put them in a covered stewpan, to keep in the steam & as much water as will cover it. The chops must be very tender, but as they are all put down together, the potatoes must be taken out first, as they burst. 

Over time, as more ingredients became available, cooks would add them to the stew, such as substituting lamb for mutton. And, that is what I am doing here, as the preparation of Irish Stew will satisfy this personal culinary challenge for my Around the World in 80 Dishes. 

STOBHACH GAELACH (IRISH STEW)

Recipe from New York Times

Serves 6 to 8

Ingredients:

• 3 pounds lamb shoulder, cut into 2 inch chunks
• Salt
• Pepper
• 4 tablespoons vegetable oil
• 2 pounds onions (about 6 medium), cut into wedges
• 1 pound of carrots (about 6 medium), cut into 3-inch lengths
• 4 cups chicken, veal or beef broth
• 1 large sprig thyme
• 3 pounds russet potatoes (about 12 small), peeled and halved in 2-inch thick slices

Directions:

1. Brown the lamb. Pat lamb dry and season well with salt and pepper. Put oil in a heavy-bottomed soup pot over medium high heat. Brown meat on all sides, working in batches. 

2. Cook vegetables. Set meat aside and add onions and carrots to the pot. Season with salt and pepper. Cook vegetables, stirring, until lightly browed, about 3 minutes. Heat oven to 350 degrees. 

3. Continue the stew. Return meat to pot, add broth and bring to a simmer. Put in thyme sprig and arrange potatoes on top (it's fine if potatoes are not completely submerged. Season potatoes, cover pot and transfer to oven). 

4. Continue the stew. Bake for about 1 hour, until lamb is quite tender when probed with a skewer or pairing knife. Remove fat from the top of broth. Ladle stew into shallow bowls and serve. 

SIDE DISH

Colcannon is a uniquely Irish dish that features mashed potatoes mixed with kale or cabbage. As Dr. Mairtin Mac Con Iomaire once described it, colcannon brings together the ancient and the modern of Irish cuisine. The ancient is represented in the cabbage or kale, which has been grown by the Irish on farms or in gardens for centuries. The modern is, as you may have guessed by now, the potato. The combination of the two ingredients creates a filling dish that could sustain a working person, whether in the fields or in factories, for a long time. 

And, as you also may have guessed, colcannon has its place in Irish art and literature. The first reference to the dish comes from a diary entry written in 1735 by William Bulkely. Mr. Bulkely was traveling from Wales and found himself in Dublin on Halloween night. As he recalled, "Dined at Cos. Wm. Parry, and also supped there upon a shoulder of mutton roasted and what they call there Coel Callen, which is cabbage boiled, potatoes, and parsnips, all this mixed together. They eat well enough, and is a Dish always ahd in this Kingdom on this night." 

There is also a children's song, "The Auld Skillet Pot," that provides a rather vivid description of the dish. The lyrics include: 

Well, did you ever make colcannon made with lovely picked cream

With the greens and scallions mingled like a picture in a dream

Did you ever make a hole on top to hold the 'melting' flake

Of the creamy flavored butter that our mothers used to make

Oh you did, so you did, so did he and so did I

And the more I think about it, sure the nearer I'm to cry

Oh weren't them the happy days when troubles we knew not

And our mother made colcannon in the little skillet pot.

Guided, and perhaps inspired, by this history and art, I decided to make colcannon. (I have to admit that I needed that inspiration because neither cabbage nor kale rank very high on the list of my favorite ingredients to cook with or eat.) And, while I will not be composing songs or writing poems about this dish, I have to admit that it was very good ... and filling.  

COLCANNON

Recipe from The Spruce Eats

Serves 4

Ingredients:

• 3 large (about 2 pounds) Yukon Gold potatoes, peeled and quartered
• 2 teaspoons fine salt, more to taste
• 6 tablespoons unsalted butter, at room temperature, divided
• 3 cups coarsely chopped kale or other seasonal greens (leaves only, tough ribs discarded)
• 4 medium green onions, thinly sliced, white and green parts divided
• 1 dried or fresh bay leaf
• 1 1/4 cups milk
• 1 teaspoon dry mustard powder
• Freshly ground black pepper, to taste

Directions:

1. Boil the potatoes. Put the potatoes into a large (4-quart) saucepan. Add 2 teaspoons fine salt and enough cold water to cover the potatoes by 2 inches. Bring to a boil over high heat. Cook until the largest potatoes are tender (they will yield easily when pierced with a fork and break apart), about 12 minutes. Drain in a colander set in a sink while you prepare the greens. Set the saucepan aside; you will use it again. 

2. Prepare the greens. Melt 2 tablespoons of unsalted butter in a medium skillet over medium, heat. Add the kale (or other seasonal greens), white parts of the scallions, and the bay leaf and cook, stirring occasionally until the kale is tender, about 5 minutes. 

3. Add the milk. Add the milk and dry mustard. Once the milk simmers, reduce the heat to low and keep warm. 

4. Finish the dish. Return the drained potatoes to the reserved saucepan. Add the remaining 4 tablespoons of unsalted butter and the green parts of the scallions. Mash with a potato masher until nearly smooth. Add the kale-milk mixture to the saucepan, discarding the bay leaf. Stir to combine. The mixture may initially appear too liquidy, but it will thicken as the potato starch absorbs the mosture. Season with salt and freshly ground pepper to taste and serve. 

*     *     *

This challenge was a success, especially given that I ate the Colcannon despite my aversion to kale. The Irish stew was also delicious and, although I was a little worried about the size of the lamb chunks and other chunks, they cooked nicely. (Tip: maybe cook stuff a little longer, maybe 15 minutes more.) There is so much more that I could write about, both with respect to Irish cuisine and its reflection in art and literature. There is also so much more I need to make, whether it is Mussels and Cream from the south of the Island or Greencastle Chowder from the north of the Island. There will definitely be additional posts about Ireland and its cuisine. Until then ...

PEACE.

Around the World in 80 Dishes: Yemen

 "Don't worry about Yemen. Yemen started in peace, and it will end its revolution in peace, and it will start its new civil state in peace."

-- Tawakkol Karmon, Nobel Peace Laureate (2011)

The journalist, politician and human rights activist -- Tawakkol Karmon -- spoke those words fifteen years ago when she accepted the Nobel Peace Prize. She accepted the award in the midst of the Arab Spring, when masses rose up against dictatorial regimes across North Africa and the Middle East. One of those revolutions took place in Yemen. That revolution brought down then-President Ali Abullah Saleh, a military officer who served in that role since 1990. 

Yet, over the course of the following fifteen years, peace has proved elusive in Yemen. The country has become a battleground between different forces, political and religious, internal and external. Those battles have inflicted severe harm upon the over 40.6 million residents spread out from the Red Sea across the southern Arabian peninsula to the borders of neighboring Oman. Yet, at least in the West, much of that harm goes untold, as the media focuses more upon the offensives of the political and religious actors. We hear more about missiles being fired from Yemen or ships being seized in the Red Sea than we hear about the millions of Yemenis who face starvation or the lack of essential infrastructure for much of the population. The result is a damning story that talks more about violence and less about the people. 

"The People are Not the Same as Their Government."

One really has to dig deep to get past the narrative that has been built by the media over the years to learn more about the Yemeni people. I have never been to Yemen, although I have always read with fascination and viewed with wonder about the country, its residents and their achievements. For example, there is amazing mud brick architecture, such as the 16th century walled city of Shibham. The city has densely packed, mudbrick buildings that are several stories tall, which has led to the city being  often referred to as the "Manhattan of the desert." And there is the Seiyun Palace in the eastern region of Hadramut, which stands as the largest mud brick structure in the world.  

Another great resource (surprisingly enough) is YouTube, where one could watch videos posted by people who have been brave enough to travel to war-torn and troubled places. Many of those travelers go out of their way to learn about the people themselves. And, as traveler and storyteller Drew Binsky has noted, the Yemeni people are not the same as their government. His video can be watched here: 

I strongly recommend Drew's videos generally, because of his efforts to talk with the people of a country to learn more about their culture and cuisine. In his video about Yemen, Drew is honest about the difficulties Yemenis face, but he is equally honest about the Yemeni themselves. As Drew says in his video, "the people are not the same as their government." Yemeni's hospitality is warm, curious and genuine. Yemenis are quick to welcome people in, share food, and talk about themselves, their cuisine and their culture. 

"Yemeni cuisine is ... a cultural narrative woven into every dish."

Yemeni cuisine differs from the cuisine of Arabic cultures. The differences arise in part from Yemen's relative isolation from the broader Arabic world. The country lies at the southwestern end of the Arabic Peninsula. The Rub al Khali -- the "Empty Quarter" -- limits land routes to Yemen, leaving only those that trace along the coastline of the peninsula. Yet, Yemen has nearly 2,000 miles of coastline, as well we major ports like Aden, Hodeidah, Mukallah and Nishtun. Yemen's ports played an important role in the maritime history of the spice trade, welcoming foods and ingredients from Persia, India and as far away as Indonesia. 

Over time, these foods and ingredients, along with culinary practices, became interwoven with the indigenous ways of cooking. They helped to create a cuisine that sets itself apart from other Arabic cuisines. There is a diversity that, for example, blends Persian cooking methods and indigenous cooking ingredients, Turkish ingredients with local fish, and much more. It is a cuisine that focuses on slow cooking methods, with many herbs and spices (cardamom, caraway, cumin, fenugreek, saffron, and turmeric, just to name a few), and, of course, chiles. The dishes are often served communally, shared among family and friends. Once again, a practice reflective of Yemeni culture and hospitality. 

"Before I had everything to eat. Now, it's one bite."

The rich culinary history cannot be viewed in isolation from the present situation in Yemen. The toll of decades of war, both fueled internally and externally (by Saudi Arabia and the UAE), have created a situation where mass starvation has the people in its grips. In the good times, Yemen imported a substantial amount of its food (sometimes up to 90% of it); war makes such imports problematic. It also makes the delivery of food aid and other humanitarian aid very difficult. As a result, mass starvation threatens large numbers of Yemenis. The United Nations estimated that, as of June 2025, nearly 5 million Yemenis faced food insecurity, with nearly 1.5 million of those Yemenis facing emergency food security. To put it in context, that would be the same as the entire population of Dallas, Texas or San Diego, California facing emergency food insecurity. And those are just the numbers from the southern regions of Yemen. 

There are numerous reasons for food insecurity in Yemen. That discussion is best left to another post or perhaps another blog. (There is a lot of reporting about food insecurity in Yemen out there). The point here is that such insecurity is projected only going to get worse, as the violence -- but not humanitarian assistance -- continues. The U.S. Agency for International Development provided substantial assistance (as much as $1 billion in Fiscal Years 2019 and 2020) that helped to provide food, medical care, safe drinking water and more to Yemenis. With the Trump administration's closure of USAID, the ripple effects are felt across Yemen, such as, by way of example, the closure of malnutrition support services for Yemeni children, as well as pregnant and breastfeeding mothers. 

MAIN COURSE

Given this rich culinary history, and the ongoing food insecurity issues, this particular occasion is a challenge for me in more ways than one. On the one hand, there are a wide array of main dishes that could be the subject of this challenge. For example, there is mandi, which is considered Yemen's national dish. It consists of lamb or chicken, marinated in spices, and cooked in a tandoor. There is also maraq, which is a soup made with lamb, that often serves as a first dish but can be used to make salta, a stew that is also considered a national dish. On the other hand, there is the knowledge that millions of Yemenis are struggling to find that "one bite."

Lamb shanks before the marinade.

In the end, I decided to make Lamb Haneeth. It is a dish that originated in the Hadhraaut region, which is the area that Drew Binsky traveled when he was in Yemen. However, Lamb Haneeth is more than just a regional dish; it has deep roots in Yemeni culture and cuisine. Indeed, this dish has been described as "an expression of familial bonds, cultural continuity and the preservation of a culinary legacy that transcends time and borders." The word haneeth hints at that legacy, as it refers to slow-cooked meat, which is a cornerstone of Yemeni cuisine.

The dish is also served in a manner that is truly reflective of Yemeni culture. Lamb Haneeth is served "family style" or "communal style," on a large platter with rice to be shared by guests and family members. Such a dish makes the perfect challenge for me to prepare. 

LAMB HANEETH

Recipe from Every Little Crumb

Serves 4

Ingredients:

• 1 bunch scallions
• 1 bunch chives
• 3 peeled garlic cloves
• 1 tablespoon cumin powder
• 1 tablespoon turmeric powder
• 1 tablespoon salt
• 1/2 tablespoon black pepper powder
• 3 cloves
• 4 whole cardamom pods
• 3 bay leaves
• 1/3 cup olive oil
• 1.5 tablespoons butter
• 2 dried lemons (optional)
• 4 lamb shanks or lamb pieces with bone (about 1.5 pounds)

Directions:

1. Prepare the marinade. Combine all the ingredients from the green onions through to the butter (everything but the dried lemon and the lamb) in a food processor or blender and process until well blended and has turned into a thick paste consistency. If you need to, add a splash of water if the sauce is so thick that it won't combine well. 

2. Marinate the lamb. Pour the green sauce over the lamb and toss to coat thoroughly, then cover tightly by placing a sheet of parchment paper on top of the lamb, then sealing with foil and marinade for as much time as you have, anywhere from four hours to overnight. 

3. Roast the lamb. Preheat the oven to 465 degrees Fahrenheit. Remove the shanks from the wrapper Place the shanks, covered with foil, on a foil covered pan in the oven for 1 hour. After 1 hour, reduce the temperature to 350 degrees Fahrenheit and cook for another 2 hours. Halfway through, toss the lamb, flipping the pieces over. When 30 minutes of cooking time remain, uncover the dish so the outside of the lamb crisps up a little.

4. Finish the dish. Serve with rice, preferably topped with toasted nuts and garnished with chopped cilantro.  

CONDIMENT

Shatta is a spicy hot sauce that often accompanies dishes in Yemen. It is not unique to Yemen, and, its culinary history can actually be traced to the Palestinian cuisine. The popularity of the hot sauce enabled it to transcend Palestine to reach tables in Lebanon, Syria, Jordan, Saudi Arabia and, of course, Yemen.

This condiment is typically prepared with long red chiles or jalapeno chiles. I did not have access to red chiles, so I went with jalapenos. The end result is not a fiery red hot sauce, but a deceptively hot green sauce (as I left as many of the seeds in as possible.)

SHATTA

Recipe from My Goodness Kitchen

Ingredients:

• 250 grams (1/2 pound) long red or jalapeno chiles
• 1 tablespoon salt, non-iodized
• 3 tablespoons apple cider vinegar
• 1 teaspoon lemon juice
• 3 tablespoons olive oil

Directions:

1. Prepare the pepper mixture. Slice the chiles into coin-wide rounds. Combine the sliced chiles with the salt and stir well. Transfer the salted chiles to the jar and pop the lid on. Place the jar in a cool, shady place for 3 days or transfer to the fridge for up to 7 days.

2. Finish the hot sauce. Drain the chiles through a colander or sieve and transfer them to a food process or mortar and pestle. Add the vinegar and lemon juice and process - or pound in the pestle - until you are happy with the texture. Transfer the chile paste back to its jar and pour in enough olive oil to cover it. Store in the fridge for up to six months. 

*     *     *

In the end, the Lamb Haneeth was delicious and, when served with the shatta, it seemed to be truly reflective of Yemeni culture and cuisine. A land where it is hot (over half of Yemen is desert), but, like the people, warm and welcoming to those who are brave enough to make the trip there. This challenge was important to me, because it is important to highlight what does not get disseminated by the global media, and to put the focus where it belongs ... the Yemeni people. 

PEACE.

Around the World in 80 Dishes: Estonia

"Kuna eestlased pole suured arvult, siis peavad nad selleks saama vaimult." 

(Since Estonians are not large in numbers, they must become so in spirit.")

-- Jakob Hurt (Estonian forklorist)

The Baltic countries have always fascinated me. Three little countries -- Lithuania, Latvia and Estonia -- each with a fierce sense of independence and solid understanding of their own identity. Those identities were born out of a shared history over the past two hundred years. As the first challenge of my Around the World in 80 Dishes in the Baltic region, I get to explore the northernmost of the three countries ... Estonia. This challenge also provides me with an opportunity to explore the Estonian culture and cuisine, which itself gives rise to a story of how an identity can awaken in the darkness of occupation, as well as survive the trip through the peaks and valleys of history. 

While the first peoples to settle in the region arrived nearly 13,000 years ago, this post will focus only on the past 250 years. Back in the mid-1800s, the Russian Empire occupied all of what constitutes present-day Estonia. Yet, the Tsarist government allowed a certain degree of localized government in the Baltic region. This autonomy primarily benefited the Germanic nobility, which had previously dominated the government and economic strutures. It also provided enough room for independent thought amongst the maarahvas (country folk) and others whose heritage was closer to Finland than Prussia or Germany. That thought coalesced around an eestlane identity. It grew around the Estonian language, with the first Estonian newspaper being published John Voldemarr Jannsen in 1857. Soon, more literary works began to emerge, including the poetry of Lydia Koidula, as well as Estonian theater. As a passage from one of Koidula's most noteworthy poems illustrates, there was a strong current of developing nationalism: 

My country is my love,

To whom I've given my heart

To you I sing, my greatest happiness,

My flowering Estonia!

Your pain boils in my heart,

Your pride and joy makes my happy,

My country, my country!

At its simplist, nationalism involves an effort to separate oneself. For the eestlane, they sought to separate themselves not just from the Germanic nobility, but also the larger Russian empire. As one could expect, the Tsarist empire was not pleased with such independent thought; and, in the 1890s, it began a russification campaign intended to bring the occupied closer in line with the occupier. For example, the Russian language replaced Estonian and German in schools and in newspapers. Yet, the Estonian identity did not die or even fade. Estonians continued to pursue their culture and develop their identity, just away from the eyes of the government. In the process, Estonians achieved the second highest literacy rate within the Russian empire. 

Russification fiurther led to an evolution in the Estonian identity, expanding it into the political sphere, as Estonians worked their way into government positions. By the time of the Russian Revolutions (of 1905 and 1917), there were Estonian political parties. With the parties came demands, including freedom of the press and freedom of speech, as well as greater autonomy and even independence. They achieved that independence between the two great wars (from 1917 until 1939), but it would take the end of the Cold War and the fall of the Soviet Union before Estonia would achieve lasting independence, which began on August 20, 1991, and continues to this day.

This quick discussion of the Estonian identity, although grounded in history, also provides the background for Estonian cuisine. While the cuisine is as eestlane as the people, history has left its mark. The influences of the Swedish, Germans, Russians and even the Finnish can be seen in the various dishes that find their way to the Estonian table. 

As for that table, Estonia has four general, regional cuisines. First, there is the northern Estonian and Tallin region, where one could find traditional dishes like verivorst (blood sausage) and a range of seafood dishes. Second, along the western shores and islands, seafood also reigns in the cuisine, with herring dishes and a black bread known as leib. Third, there is the southern Estonian region, where the dishes focus more on the land than the sea. Finally, there is the eastern Estonian region, where Russian influences can be more readily seen. The common theme that ties together all of thes regions is a simplicity in terms of ingredients and processes, reflecting the peasant origins of many of the dishes. 

APPETIZER

The start of this challenge begins with the Russian influence. It is a dish brought to Estonian by the Soviets. Shashlik are the kebabs of Central Asia, but it is the Soviets that introduced them throughout their union.  In Estonia, the skewers are made usually with pork, which is cut up, combined with onions, garlic and vinegar, and then left to marinate overnight. Once they are ready for the grill, they are skewered and grilled over charcoal (although a gas grill works just as well). 

In researching this dish, I came across an interesting description of a recent event -- Midsummer's Eve, "When the Village Folk Come Together -- at the Estonian Open Air Museum: 

Kolkhoz apartment building. It is the year 1988, and the idea of independence of Estonia has found its way to Sookuru collective farm. There was a meeting in Hirvepark in Tallinn a year earlier, the concept of self-managing Estonia is in the air, and five national patriotic songs by Alo Mattiisen are becoming more and more popular. All of it happened so fast and is hard to believe! The dwellers of the building have hung out the Estonian tricolour flag; they are singing new and old songs about the homeland and planning to organize a support group for the Popular Front of Estonia. Shashlik will be served.

While the Soviets may be gone, the skewers -- and Estonian independence -- remain.  

ESTONIAN SHASHLIK

Recipe from Nami-Nami

Serves 4

Ingredients:

• 1 kg (2.2 pounds) of pork shoulder
• 4 large onions
• 2-3 garlic cloves, crushed
• 2 tablespoons vinegar (30% proof)
• 2 teaspoons finely ground salt
• 1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
• 1 teaspoon caster sugar

Directions:

1. Prepare the pork. Cut the pork into thick slices (about 1.5 to 2 centimeters, or 3/4 to 1 inch), then small chunks (4 centimeters by 4 centimeters, or 1.5 inch by 1.5 inch). Place in a large bowl. Peel the onions and cut into thin slices. Add to the bowl with the crushed garlic, salt, pepper and sugar. Sprinkle the vinegar on top. Wearing a pair of kitchen globes, massage the meat and onions for about 10-15 minutes, so the onion juices are released and the seasonings are firmly massaged into the meat chunks. Instead of dark red, the meat should be paler. Cover the bowl and marinate in the refrigerator for 24 hours.

2. Prepare the shashlik. Remove the meat from the refrigerator and let the meat come to room temperature, about 1 hour. If using wood skewers, soak the skewers for about 1 hour. Piece the meat chunks onto skewers.

3. Grill the shashlik. Prepare a charcoal fire or heat a gas grill to medium-high heat. Place the shashlik on the grill grate. Grill the shashlik for about 3-4 minutes, and turn. Repeat this process until each side is grilled and the temperature reaches 145 degrees Fahrenheit (62.8 degrees Celsius).

MAIN COURSE

The main course -- and the challenge for my Around the World in 80 Dishes -- is Frikadellisupp, which has been described as "the kind of soup that makes a meal." As Jennifer Eremeeva writes for the Moscow Times, "[e]fforts to pin down a 'classic' recipe for Frikadellisupp are frustrating, since the soup is nothing if not a thrifty 'sweep the fridge' improvised recipe for stretching meat into a meal, by combining it with bread, and anything else that might reach its sell-by date." 

I decided to prepare the meatballs in a slightly different manner than the recipe suggests. Instead of cooking them in the soup, I separately baked the meatballs and then added them to the soup. I did this in part because the preparation of the meatballs was a little different than other meatballs that I made. There is no filler (for example, breadcrumbs) and I feared that the meatballs would break up in the soup. By baking them first, I ensured that the meatballs would stay together in the soup. (I baked them in the oven at 350 degrees for about 40 minutes, times will vary depending upon the size of the meatballs.)

Apart from that, I could not find much describing the history of this dish. It may very well be something that has always been there, especially when times were difficult (and, for Estonia and Estonians, there were many difficult times since they achieved their independence and reclaimed it again). 

FRIKADELLISUPP

Recipe from Cook, Eat Share

Serves 4

Ingredients (for the soup):

• 3 carrots
• 1 turnip
• 1 leek
• 1 parsnip
• 2 celery sticks
• 2 medium potatoes
• 1 cup chicken stock
• 2-3 tablespoons of oil
• Fresh or dried dill

Ingredients (for the meatballs):

• 1 egg
• 1 onion
• 200 grams minced meat (pork or beef)
• Salt
• Black pepper

Directions:

1.  Prepare the vegetables. Wash, peel, and chop carrots, turnip, leek, parsnip and celery into bite sized pieces. Heat an oil in a large pot over medium heat and add the chopped vegetables. Fry slightly for about 5 minutes. 

2. Prepare the soup. Add about 2 liters of water. If you would like a thicker soup, add less water and more vegetables. Bring to a boil and add the chicken stock cube or chicken broth. Reduce heat and simmer for 30 minutes.

3. Prepare the meatballs. Place the minced meat in a bowl. Finely chop the onion and add to the bowl. Add the egg, salt, black pepper and mix well (use hand or wooden spoon). Using your hands, form small balls out of the mix and place them onto a plate for later.

4. Continue to prepare the soup.  After the 30 minutes, add peeled and chopped potatoes. Simmer for a further 10 minutes and then bring the soup to a boil. Add the meatballs and boil until they surface. Right before turning off the heat, add the fresh or dried dill. 

5. Finish the dish. Once the meatballs are cooked and the vegetables are soft, the soup is ready. Serve with a slice of bread or toast. 

*     *    *

For my first foray into Baltic cuisine (and, for that matter, northern European cuisine) as part of my Around the World in 80 Dishes challenge, I think that this challenge went well.  I particularly liked the soup, and this recipe made me think abouut additional soups that I will be doing in future challenges. Until then...

PEACE.

Around the World in 80 Dishes: South Africa

I have gotten to where I am in life not because of something I brought to the world but through something I found - the wealth of African culture. 

-- Hugh Masakela 

When reading these words, they sound like the notes emanating from the trump of the famous South African jazz musician. "The Father of South African jazz, Masakela was known for his anti-apartheid songs, such as Soweto Blues and Bring Him Back Home." His music encouraged and inspired South Africans in their struggle to end the racist system of apartheid. That struggle eventually prevailed on May 4, 1990, when an agreement was reached to establish a democratic government -- of all the people and by all of the people -- by 1994. And, in that year, South Africa held its first fully democratic election, in which the Rainbow Nation (a term originated with Archbishop Desmond Tutu) elected Nelson Mandela as its first black President.

South Africa has always interested me, as it represents one of the best examples of how a diverse people can tear down a racist system and replace it with one based on equality and freedom. To be sure, South Africa has its issues, particularly economic issues which have perpetuated and, in some respects, worsened the economic divides amongst its people. But, there is a wealth of South African culture, one that transcends dollars and cents, or Rands. One that is truly invaluable.

My Around the World in 80 Dishes challenge invites me to learn more about this wealth. The Rainbow Nation, South Africa, is truly a diverse one, as evidenced by the fact that it has eleven official languages (Afrikaans, English, Ndebele, Sepedi, Sesotho, Setswana, siSwati, Tshivenda, Xhosa, Xitsonga and Zulu). This diversity presents a lot of potential dishes for a main course. There are, of course, many dishes from the various African nations who live in South Africa, along with dishes from other significant ethnic groups, such as curry dishes from India and Malaysia, who were brought or made their way during the colonial period. And, there are, of course, the dishes of the colonizers themselves, such as the English and the Afrikaans. There are so many options that it took a very long time to decide. And, in the end, the decision was made not by myself but, interestingly enough, by Chef Gordon Ramsay. 

While I was preparing a meal one afternoon, I happened to have Gordon Ramsay: Uncharted on the television in the background. The show chronicles Chef Ramsay's travels to various parts of the world, where he spends a week learning about the people, their culture, and their food, all tied together by a challenge to prepare a meal at the end. This particular episode followed Chef Ramsay as he learned about South African cuisine in the KwaZulu-Natal province, with a particular emphasis on the Zulu cuisine, but a recognition of other influences. He prepared a whole fish on the braai, learned how to make Ushatini and Chakalaka, and discovered the importance of pelepele or piri piri. 

Ramsay's adventures provided a roadmap for this particular challenge. I am going to make the principal dishes from that Uncharted show: whole fish on the Braai, which will satisfy the challenge, along with the sides of ushatini and chakalaka. I will even make pelepele (or peri peri).   

MAIN DISH

For the culinary challenge, I prepared a whole fish for the braai. Gordon Ramsay's preparation of this dish was very simple, basically just some salt on the fish before placing it on the grill. My recipe involves a little more preparation and ingredients. 

WHOLE FISH ON THE BRAAI

Recipe from Fish Wife

Serves 2

Ingredients:

• 1 whole fish (such as Red Roman, red snapper)
• 1 red onion
• 1 handful of cilantro
• 2 teaspoon minced garlic
• 1 teaspoon minced chiles
• 2 teaspoons grated ginger
• 1/2 cup soy sauce
• 1 lemon

Directions:

1. Prepare the fish. Score both sides of the fish.  Chop the red onion and the cilantro and stuff into the cavity of the fish. Grate some lemon rind and add to the cavity. Mix together the garlic, chiles, ginger and soy sauce. Spread one-half of the sauce over both sides of the fish. Keep the remaining half for basting the fish. Place the fish on a fish basket that can be flipped.

2. Grill the fish. Heat a charcoal or gas grill over high heat. Cook the fish over the heat for 20 to 25 minutes, flipping over 3 to 5 minutes. Using a basting brush, paint the fish with the marinade with every flip. When the fish is done, remove from the heat and allow to rest for a few minutes. 

SIDE DISH

Chakalaka is a South African side dish that is often served with the braai. Its origins lie in the townships around Johnannesberg, where Mozambican mineworkers lived and worked. These mineworkers would combine tinned food, like beans and tomatoes, with chiles to create a dish that they could eat with pap (porridge). Chakalaka represents an effort to take something that was brought to the region by colonialists (tinned food) and making it into something indigenous. 

CHAKALAKA

Recipe from Cooking Channel

Serves 4

Ingredients:

• 3 tablespoons oil
• 1 onion, finely chopped
• 2 green Thai Bird's eye chiles, seeded and chopped
• 2 garlic cloves, crushed
• 2 ounces ginger, finely grated
• 2 tablespoons mild curry powder
• 1 green bell pepper, finely chopped
• 1 yellow bell pepper, finely chopped
• 1 red bell pepper, finely chopped
• 5 large carrots, scrubbed, topped, tailed and grated
• 14 ounces canned chopped tomatoes
• 12 ounces tomato paste
• 14 ounces canned baked beans
• 2 sprigs fresh thyme
• Salt
• Freshly ground black pepper 

Directions:

1. Saute ingredients. Heat the oil in a pan and fry the onions until soft and translucent. Add the chiles, garlic and half of the ginger (reserve the other half to add right at the end). Add the curry powder and stir to combine. Add the bell peppers and cook for another two minutes. Add the carrots and stir to make sure they are well combined with the other ingredients and coated in the curry powder. Add in the tomatoes and tomato paste and stir. Cook until the mixture is well combined and slightly thickened, about 5 to 10 minutes. 

2. Finish the dish. Remove from the heat and add the baked beans, thyme and remaining ginger. Stir to combine; season with salt and pepper. Serve hot or cold. 

RELISH

Ushatini is a South African version of a salad or relish that I have seen around the world. In the Americas, it resembles salsa or pico de gallo, with tomatoes, onions and chiles. In the Middle East, it is halfway to a salad e-shirazi (all it needs is cucumbers). Yet, ushatini is South African with its use of the piri-piri chiles (or, in my case, Thai green chiles). It is a great accompaniment to the Braai, as it should be spooned over the grilled meat or seafood.  

USHATINI

Recipe from Cookpad

Ingredients:

• 1 red onion, diced
• 2 big tomatoes, diced
• 3 chiles, minced
• Vinegar, to taste
• Salt, to taste 

Directions:

Combine all of the ingredients in a bowl and mix well. 

CONDIMENT

The final part of the Around the World in 80 Dishes challenge involves the preparation of peri-peri sauce, or what was referred to in Uncharted as "pele pele" sauce. This condiment was made possible by the Portuguese, who brought chiles to South Africa (as they did around the world), which served as the basis for the sauce. This is a very spicy sauce given the types of chiles used. 

SOUTH AFRICAN PERI PERI

Recipe from African Bites

Ingredients:

• 10 hot chiles (habanero, scotch bonnet or Thai chiles)
• 1 medium onion
• 4 cloves garlic
• 2 tablespoons bouillon powder or Maggi cubes
• 2 basil leaves
• 2 tablespoons parsley
• 1-3 roma tomatoes
• 1/2 to 1 cup vegetable oil
• Salt
• Freshly ground black pepper 

Directions:

1. Prepare the sauce. Coarsely chop the tomatoes and onions and discard the pepper stems. Then puree the tomatoes, onions, garlic, pepper, parsley, basil, and bouillon powder in a food processor with as much oil as needed to make a thick-ish puree. 

2. "Cook" the sauce. Pour the pepper mixture into a small saucepan, bring to a boil, reduce heat, and slowly simmer for about 15 minutes, stirring frequently to prevent burning. Adjust seasoning with salts.

 3. Finish the dish. Let it cool, pour into a mason jar or a container with a lid, and store it in a fridge for up to a week. For the pepper sauce to last longer, fully cover it with oil. 

*     *     *

In the end, I think these dishes turned out well, even if they may not have reached the standards of either Gordon Ramsey or his hosts when he visited South Africa. The dishes enabled me to participate in an endeavor to learn more about South African cuisine, especially the dishes of the indigenous peoples. This challenge was a success and motivates me to my next one. Stay tuned for more....

PEACE.

Around the World in 80 Dishes: Mexico

"Mexican food is far more varied than people think."

-- Gael Garcia Bernal, Actor & Filmmaker

That statement is particularly true if the people happen to live in the United States. In a country where the history of Mexican food tells the tales of Chi-Chi's and Chili's, along with Taco Bell and Chipotle, one could easily think that Mexican food consists of nachos, tacos, quesadillas and chalupas. Yet, the entirety of Mexico, from the Rio Grande to the Usumacinta, from the Pacific to the Caribbean, plays host to a wide range of different cuisines. The foods of the arid stretches of Sonora differ from those along the coastline of Jalisco. Those dishes differ from the indigenous cuisines of Oaxaca and Tabasco.

Americans love Mexican food, but as Anthony Bourdain once noted, "we have barely scratched the surface of what Mexican food really is." In some respects, Mexican cuisine is older than "the great cuisines" of Europe. And, it can stand its ground with those cuisines as well. A mole sauce from Oaxaca is as complicated to make (if not more so), in terms of ingredients and processes, as any sauce from storied European cuisines that are featured the Michelin-starred kitchens of restaurants anywhere in the world.  

The regional cuisines of Mexico

In order to understand the range of regional cuisines in Mexico, one needs to look at the country itself. Generally speaking, one could outline at least seven different regional cuisines. There is the El Norte (Aguascalientes, Baja, Sonora, Chihuahua, Cohuila, Durango, Nuevo Leon, Tamaulipas and Zacatecas), with a range of seafood dishes from the coasts of the Pacific Ocean and Baja California) to the beef dishes from the ranches of Sonora and Chichuahua. (I think this could be split in two separate regions on its own.) There is the Costa del Pacifico Norte (Comalina, Jalisco, Nyarit, and Sinaloa), which is known for dishes such as pozole and birria. There is the Bajio (Guanajuato, Michoacan, Queretaro and San Luis Potosi), where rice and pork feature prominently. There is Costa del Pacifico Sur (Chiapas, Guerrero, and Oaxaca) where one could enjoy the cuisine of the indigenous peoples. Then there is El Sur (Campeche, Quintana Roo and Yucatan), where one could enjoy pork dishes like pibil. There is El Golfo (Tabasco & Veracruz), where, as noted above, there is Afro-Cuban and Creole influences. Finally, Mexico Central (Federal District, Hidalgo, Mexico, Morelos,  Puebla, and Tlaxcala), where many of the other regions' influences meet. 

This variety makes the preparation of a main dish from Mexico especially challenging. I have previously dabbled in the particular regional cuisines, whether it is preparing the Mole Verde Zacatano or Tacos de Chapulines con Tequila y Guacamole. Yet, which cuisine will reign supreme for this Mexican round of my Around the World in 80 Dishes Challenge? 

With so many regions, states and cuisines to choose from, I decided to introduce some randomness. I used a random address generator to provide me with three addresses as starting points to choose the cuisine and the dish. Those addresses gave me the following Mexican States: (1) Sonora; (2) Jalisco; and (3) Tabasco.

APPETIZER

I have never traveled to the State of Sonora, let alone walked the streets of its capital, Hermosillo, during the 1980s. (I would have been in my teens during that time.) Yet, if one did, they would have come across the culinary creation known as the Sonoran Dog or the Danger Dog. Vendors, known as dogueros, grilled bacon-wrapped hot dogs, which they placed in bollilo bun could be customized with a rage of toppings and condiments. Toppings typically included tomatoes, onions, beans, guacamole or salsa, while condiments could include mayonnaise or mustard. 

Grilling the dogs is the key. One cannot boil or steam them. However, some vendors operated in less than sanitary conditions or in violation of food preparation regulations, which gave rise to the name "danger dogs." Fortunately, I found a recipe on Saveur from Danny Trejo, the famous actor who owns restaurants like Trejo's Cantina and Trejo's tacos. There is no issue with the food, the only danger would be crossing one of characters played by Trejo, like Navajas from Desperado or Machete from the movie of the same name.

DANGER DOGS (SONORAN DOGS)

Recipe from Danny Trejo

Serves 4-6

Ingredients (for onions and peppers):

• 2 tablespoons olive oil
• 1 medium onion, thinly sliced (1 1/2 cup)
• 1/2 medium green bell pepper, thinly sliced (2/3 cup)
• 1/2 medium red bell pepper, thinly sliced (2/3 cup)
• Kosher salt

Ingredients (for the Danger Dogs):

• 2 jalapenos, quartered lengthwise
• 6 hot dogs
• 6 bacon slices
• 6 hot dog buns
• 2 tablespooons vegetable oil

Directions:

1. Prepare the onions and peppers. In a large skillet, add the oil and onion and cook, stirring occasionally, until softened and beginning to brown, about 7 minutes. Add the green and red bell peppers and cook, stirring occasionally, until everyhting is soft and deep golden brown, 10-12 minutes. Transfer to a bowl, season to taste with salt, and set aside. 

2. Prepare the jalapeno peppers. In an empty skillet, add the jalapenos skin-side down and cook over medium heat without moving until charred, about 5 minutes. Turn them owner and cook until tender, about 5 minutes more. Transfer to a bowl and set aside. Return the skillet ot the stove and turn off heat. 

3. Make the danger dogs. Tightly wrap the hot dogs in bacon from end to end. To the empty skillet, add the oil and turn the heat to medium. When it's hot and shimmering, add the hot dogs and cook until browned on the bottom, about 5 minutes. Using tongs, give each hot dog a quarter turn and cook for another 5 minutes. Repeat on the remiaining two sides until the hot dogs are crisp all over. 

4. Finish the dish. To serve, spoon the reserved onions and peppers into buns, then top each with one jalapeno slice. Top with the hot dogs and serve immediately. 

MAIN COURSE

As the story goes, the Spanish conqusitadors were not the only ones to arrive in what is now Mexico during the 16th century. Those conquistadors brought goats with them, which were used to help clear the rugged terrain as the conquistadors and colonizers made their way across the Americas. However, the goats became a problem. Their numbers multipled and, as the Spanish colonizers settled in, there was not as great of a need for the goats. Unlike cattle or pigs, the Spanish were not fans of eating cabro or cabra, as they did not like the smell or taste of the gamey meat. So, in Jalisco, they decided to give the goats to the indigenous peoples. The goats were just as much of a problem for the natives, as the goats ate everything, including the crops. So the indigenous people decided to eat the goats. They used traditional preparations, using spices and herbs as they cooked the meat slowly in vinegar and water, until it became a delicious soup. The Spanish were unimpressed, referring to the soup derogatorily as "birria," which means "worthless" or "useless." 

That worthless soup outlived the Spanish empire and became an important part of the cuisine in Jalisco. A person who prepares the iconic soup became known as birriero. The preparations began to vary with regions within Jalisco and with the cooks, but the end product - the soup with its rich broth did not change. As birria expanded across Mexico, there were additional changes. For example, as it reached Tijuana in the 1950s, a street food vendor named Don Guadalupe Zarate decided to use beef instead of goat. There is also a legend in connection with Zarate that customers asked him to add liquid to the birria, which led to the beef soup. (I think that this part is probably legend, as other sources indicate that the preparation of birria as a soup goes back to Jalisco.)

Birria continued its expansion northward, along with Danger Dogs, into the United States. Culinary migrants, whose aromas and flavors would add to the tables in kitchens and restaurants across the country. Birria could not make it on its own, it needed real people, real migrants who came to this country seeking a better life for themselves and their families. At first, there was Chalio Luis, who brought birria to the Los Angeles, California in the 1970s. Then there was Reuben Ramirez, along with his cousins Oscar and Omar Gonzalez, who opened a birria stand in South Central Los Angeles, California in 2013. There were countless others, who brought their knowledge as birreros or just as someone who could prepare birria to the U.S. for people to eat and enjoy. 

Today, Americans have embraced birria, with restaurants serving the beef and broth, often in taco form, in restaurants from Washington, D.C. to Los Angeles, California. However, our government has turned against the Mexicans migrants and residents who live in the United States (along with all other individuals with brown or black skin). Governmental authorities have increased their efforts to deport them, with masked individuals rounding up individuals and taking them away in unmarked vans to detention centers and prisons. These facts were not lost on me as I prepared this dish. 

BEEF BIRRIA

Recipe from Isabel Eats

Serves many

Ingredients:

• 4 to 5 pounds chuck roast, cut into large 4-inch chunks
• 1/2 tablespoon kosher salt
• 1/2 tablespoon ground black pepper
• 1 1/2 tablespoon olive oil
• 12 guajillo chiles, rinsed, stemmed and seeded
• 5 ancho chiles, rinsed, stemmed and seeded
• 5 arbol chiles, rinsed and stemmed
• 2 large Roma tomatoes
• 1/2 medium yellow onion
• 1 4-inch Mexican cinnamon stick
• 3 bay leaves
• 1/2 teaspoon whole black peppercorns
• Water, as needed
• 2 cups beef broth
• 1/4 cup distilled white viengar
• 5 cloves garlic
• 1 teaspoon ground cumin
• 1 teaspoon dried Mexican oregano
• 1/2 teaspoong ground cloves

Directions:

1. Brown the meat. Generously season the meat with salt and pepper on all sides, and heat the olive oil in a large pot or Dutch oven over medium high heat. Working in 2 batches, add the meat and sear on all sides until browned. Remove the pot from the heat, add the seared meat back into the pot and set aside. 

2. Continue with other ingredients. While the meat is searing, add the guajillo chiles, ancho chiles, arbol chiles, tomatoes, onion, cinnamon stick, bay leaves and pepper corns to a medium pot. Cover completely with water and bring to a boil over high ehat. Reduce the heat to low, cover, and cook for 10 minutes. 

3. Blend the other ingredients. Using a slotted spoon, transfer the softened chiles and other ingredients to a large blender. Add 1 cup of the chile soaked cooking water, the beef broth, white vinegar, garlic, cumin, oregano and cloves. Blend on high for a few minutes until compeletly smooth. (You may have to do this in 2 batches if your blender is not big enough.) Strain the blended sauce through a fine mesh strainer into the pot with the seared meat. Discard any solids left behind.

4. Cook the birria. Stir the meat and chile sauce together to combine and bring to a boil over high heat. Reduce the heat to low, cover and simmer for 3 to 3 1/2 hours until the meat is fall-apart tender. 

5. Finish the dish. Transfer the meat to a large bowl and shred it with two forks. Add the meat back into the consomme and serve as a stew in bowls with diced onion and chopped cilantro, or as tacos in corn tortillas with shredded Oaxaca cheese, cilantro and diced onions.

SAUCE

For the last dish, which comes from the state of Tabasco, a State that lies along Mexico's Caribbean coastline of Mexico. This region has a long history, stretching all the way back to the Olmec civilization, which predominated over the area from 1400 BCE to about 400 BCE. After the decline of the Olmecs, the Chontal Maya civilization emerged, controlling the area from 300 CE until the Spanish conquistadors and colonists arrived. 

I wanted to find a recipe that draws from the pre-Spanish culinary traditions. I found it in chirmol. I am not talking about the Guatemalan salsa. Instead, it is a "stew" whose origins go back as far as the Chontal Maya civilization, if not further back in time. The quotation marks are used because chirmol is not so much a stew, as it is a mole. A sauce prepared with a range of ingredients that set it apart from other preparations. For the chirmol, the key ingredients are the tortillas, which are burnt; the anchos, which provide the smoke and spice; and, most importantly, the petitas or pumpkin seeds. 

The sauce is very versatile, but it is usually served over chicken, fish or pork. Of course, chicken and pork are not indigenous ingredients, both of which having been brought over by the Spanish. If you want to de-colonize the dish, I would use either fish or turkeys, which had been domesticated by indigenous people in the area long before Spanish arrived. 

CHIRMOL TABASQUENO

Recipe from Hunter Angler Gardener Cook

Serves 6

Ingredients:

• 3 stale tortillas or tostadas
• 3 to 5 ancho chiles, stemmed and seeded
• 1 head of garlic, cloves separated but not peeled
• 1 white onion, peeled and quartered
• 1/2 pound Roma tomatoes, halved lengthwise
• 1/3 pound pepitas or pumpkin seeds
• 3 cloves
• 1 tablespoon achiote paste (optional)
• 1/2 teaspoon anise seeds (optional)
• 1 hoja santa or small bunch of epazote (optional)
• 2 tablespoons lard or olive oil
• 1 pound of crab meat (or any other protein)

Directions:

1. Prepare the tortillas. Get a large heavy frying pan or comal very hot. Partially char the stale tortillas, you want lots of black marks, but don't blacken them totally. If you are using tostadas, no need for this. 

2. Prepare the chiles. Briefly toast the ancho chiles, pressing down on them with a spatula. You want to see some blistering, so maybe 10 to 30 seconds per side. Submerge all the toasted chiles in warm water. 

3. Prepare the other ingredients. Arrange the onions garlic and tomatoes on the hot pan to char them. You want serious blackening here. The tomatoes will take the longest, and don't be tempted to move them too soon or you will leave all the good blackened bits in the pan. If that happens, scrape it up immediately and set the scapings aside.

4. Toast the pepitas. In another pan, toast the pumpkin seeds over medium high heat until they start to pop. Move to the bowl of a blender. Crush up the toasted tortillas and put them in the blender too, along with the cloves, achiote, and anise seeds, if using. Add enough water to the blender to turn this all into a runny paste. Pour the contents into a large bowl. 

5. Continue the preparation. When the vegetables are nicely charred, peel the garlic, then add everything to the blender with the soaked chiles and the joa santa leaf if using. Add some of the chile soaking water and blend this to a puree too. Add it to the bowl and mix well. Add salt to taste.  

6. Finish the dish. Heat the lard or olive oil in a pot over medium high heat and when it's hot, add the chirmol. Stir well to combine and drop the heat to low. Let this simmer 15 to 20 minutes. Serve over cooked crabmeat or other protein. 

*     *     *

This challenge has special meaning. I strived to complete it by Mexican Independence Day in 2025, during a time in which the administration of the United States was using its enforcement powers in unconstitutional and inhumane ways against Mexicans who were living here both lawfully and without proper documentation. It was also reported that the administration planned to have Immigration & Customs Enforcement target Mexican Independence Day celebrations in Chicago, Illinois. Rather than persecute people, I wanted to join in the celebration of their culture.

In so doing, I made three interesting dishes from across the country. All three were successes and I look forward to where the next challenge will take me. 

PAZ.